


Not Quite Lunch Dates

by SleepySsnail



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Crush, Collage, Crushes, Cute, Deaf Hartley Rathaway, Embedded Images, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Funny, Grumpy Earth-2 Harrison "Harry" Wells, HR and Harry are brothers, Harrisco Fest 2020, Harry Has a Crush, Human Resources, Humor, I Tried, Letters, Lunch, M/M, Minor Jesse "Quick" Wells, Palmer Technologies (Arrow TV 2012), Post-it Notes, Sandwiches, Sort Of, Theft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26194633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepySsnail/pseuds/SleepySsnail
Summary: There were plenty of times when Harry wanted to throw things or yell at his employees for basic mistakes, but this went above and beyond all of that. There were lines that weren't meant to be crossed in the workplace, especially one this delicate. When he found the culprit, Harry was going to slaughter whoever stole his lunch from the fridge.Or, five times Harry's lunch gets stolen, and one time it doesn't. Featuring his massive crush on Cisco, Latin cursing from Hartley, and a cameo from HR's drumsticks. Written for Harrisco Fest 2020
Relationships: Cisco Ramon/Earth-2 Harrison "Harry" Wells
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	Not Quite Lunch Dates

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this over the span of five days on my phone whenever inspiration struck. I apologize if it feels a little disjointed, but I really had a lot of fun with this and hope you guys like it too!
> 
> This is for Harrisco Fest 2020 and it fills the prompts of "human resources," "five times and one time," "5+1," and, "my first harrisco thing."

The first time it happened was almost two weeks after the contract with Palmer Tech was signed.

In theory working with Palmer Tech to pool their resources for specific assistive devices was a good idea. It looked even better on paper, and if all went well there was a high chance that STAR Labs and Palmer Tech would corroborate on more projects in the future. 

But contract or not, Harry was going to slaughter whoever stole his lunch from the fridge. 

“This is exactly why I need my own fridge,” Harry insisted as he dipped a French fry in ketchup. 

“No you don’t,” Jesse said in a bored tone as she placed half of her burger on Harry’s empty plate. “The kitchens here are huge, and you were the one to stock them full of the best appliances. If you did get a fridge in here, you’d mistake plutonium for strawberry soda or something.”

Raising an eyebrow at that last comment, Harry sighed and dug into the meal Jesse had been willing to share. The STAR Labs kitchens were amazing. Harry made sure of that when he built the place, and he could probably host a cooking show in there if he really wanted to. 

But the fact that his labeled tupperware container of ravioli he brought from home was missing when he went to get it was unacceptable. In all his years not once did Harry have his food mistaken for someone else’s, or stolen right out of the refrigerator. It was more than infuriating.

“It was probably a mistake,” Jesse said between sips of her vanilla milkshake, “The new guys are still getting situated. Someone must’ve grabbed it by accident.”

Glaring down at his remaining fries, Harry sighed and stated, “Maybe. I’ve done that before.”

“Really?” Jesse asked through a mouthful of burger. “You did that?”

“It was in the fridge,” Harry said as he dipped another fry in ketchup. “It wasn’t labeled. I took it.”

“DAD!” Jesse yelled, causing Harry to jump in his seat.

“What?” Harry asked, looking around for what could’ve caused her outburst. “What’s wro--”

“You stole someone else’s food?” Jesse asked incredulously. “How many times?”

“I didn’t keep track,” Harry shrugged. It wasn’t anything too important for him to dwell on. 

Groaning Jesse buried her face in her hands and said, “Dad this is karma.”

“There’s no scientific proof that karma exists,” Harry said, unconvinced of his daughter’s theory. “Besides, who’s to say it wasn’t an accident like you said? The Palmer scientists probably can’t tie their shoes without help.”

“That’s not nice,” Jesse chastised, her nose wrinkling in disapproval. “I’m working with some of them on some projects and they’re really smart. Like, some of the stuff they come up with sounds ridiculous and fake, but then they make it happen.”

Humming to show he was listening, Harry traced the Big Belly Burger logo with a greasy fry while Jesse continued to talk. Knowing his daughter was working with some of the most capable geniuses was something Harry was always proud of, but he never got used to the way Jesse praised others. It was a quality he lacked, and one of the many reasons he almost never strayed into the labs and workrooms of the other STAR Labs employees. Giving an honest compliment to someone without pointing out the flaw in their design was difficult, especially when the idea interested Harry and he wanted to work on it himself. 

“--but Caitlin’s nice and Cisco’s really funny,” Jesse said, waving her hands around as she spoke enthusiastically. “He and Hartley are always arguing but it’s really kinda like brotherly rivalry. And he has like, a huge stash of candy somewhere.”

“Food isn’t allowed in the labs,” Harry said automatically, knowing the risks of that. “He should be aware of that protocol.”

Waving off Harry's comment like it was fatherly advice, Jesse stated, “He’s careful. Besides, if food isn’t allowed in the labs, then that means you can’t have a fridge in yours.”

Feeling called out for a moment, Harry let out a breath of disbelief before shaking his head. Smiling at how he had been played, Harry stated, “You got me this time Quick.”

Grinning at the praise, Jesse launched into a new conversation about the schematics for one of her assignments. All things considered, Harry couldn't be too mad with whoever took his lunch. It gave him the opportunity to spend time with Jesse on what would normally be a boring work day. 

* * *

The second time it happened, Harry actually missed lunch and didn’t notice until a couple hours after. 

Jesse had been right about the Palmer Tech scientists being brilliant. Harry had even met a few during the several weeks going on a month of negotiations with Palmer Tech. Even though he was supposed to come alone, Ray Palmer had decided to bring some of who he considered his “Best Minds” with him to STAR Labs to check out the facilities, equipment, and get a feel for how things ran before committing to the alliance.

That was when Harry met Cisco Ramon. Mechanical engineer, able to do pretty much anything, an absolute pain in Harry’s ass, and just as gorgeous as he was all of the above.

Ramon was persistent and within five minutes of meeting him decided on shortening Harrison’s name to Harry, and completely ignored all of Harry’s protests about the matter with the flash of a smile and a lollipop to offer anyone who seemed annoyed with him.

Jesse called it a “schoolboy crush” to which Harry fervently disagreed. He simply found that after nearly a solid month of having Ramon around STAR Labs, playing with equipment, building things to test, making quips, kindly pointing out where people could improve their work, dropping pop culture references, smiling that bright smile that made Harry’s insides light up like--

No, it wasn’t a crush. It was an intellectual appreciation. Harry was allowed to do that, especially when the one he was appreciating had no trouble producing comebacks for Harry's own cutting comments and sharp wit. 

Crush? No. Intellectual appreciation? Yes. Of course, Harry was smart enough to keep his thoughts about Ramon's strong arms and dark hair to himself. If Jesse or HR heard about it, it would be the end for him.

So when Harry wandered past the open door to Cisco Ramon and Hartley Rathaway’s shared workroom, the last thing he expected was for the two scientists to be hunched over the same table working on something while they hurled insults at each other in Spanish. It actually took a good while for either of them to actually notice Harry was standing in the doorway, but once they did he got two very different reactions.

“Dr. Wells,” Hartley said, dropping his tools and standing up to greet Harry, his hand extended to shake. “What brings you here?”

“Probably to nag at us,” Cisco said from where he was still fiddling with the small device. Looking up with a smile, he added, “Harry’s really good at that.”

Glaring at the nickname he didn’t ask for, Harry glanced at the different blueprints and notes scattered across the table. If Ramon was a genius then so was Rathaway.

On their own, Ramon and Rathaway were almost matched in intellect, capable of producing ideas and the means to make them possible, and they made it clear how despite their youth, compared to other older scientists, Ray Palmer had made a wise decision in hiring them.

But together, in the same room, it was like listening to a mother in law arguing with a daughter in law over color schemes. It was a miracle the two had stopped their bickering while Harry was there, but there was no doubt they’d pick up right where they left off once he took his leave. Picking up what looked like one of the more recent notes, Harry skimmed it before fixing Hartley with his stare.

“What’s this supposed to be?”

Something in Hartley's expression shifted and he began to explain the hearing aid he came up with. 

All things considered, it was a good concept. Figuring a way to make the hearing aid pick up on specific sounds in conversation instead of simply amplifying everything was something Harry wouldn’t have thought up on his own. And with how Rathaway knew the specifics, it sounded like he was talking from experience, not like he did a few hours of research on deafness. Hartley’s enthusiasm coupled with how Harry remembered the man’s dedication towards the alliance was what sealed Harry’s interest in the project.

It also helped that Rathaway explained his research in clear and concise wording just like in his notes

Tossing the paper back down, Harry glanced at what Ramon was working on, now interested in how far along the pair was and what other materials they required.

“Everything on that list would help,” Ramon said, tearing his eyes away from the device to shove a piece of paper at Harry.

“This is the test version of the speaker,” Rathaway said, motioning to what Ramon had in his hands. “The real one will be much smaller.”

“I dunno,” Cisco said, holding up the device like he was comparing it to Hartley's face. “I think this might fit in that big head if yours.”

Rolling his eyes at the comment, Rathaway said something in...Latin? The surprises never end with the Palmer Tech engineers. But that was unimportant. The whole reason these two were even at STAR Labs was to work on things like this, and if Harry hadn’t seen the original concept for it, that meant Palmer must have signed off on it to give Rathaway the funding and supplies to create something of a prototype.

Projects like this were the entire reason STAR Labs and Palmer Tech pooled their resources. 

It didn’t take long for Harry to find a stool and drag it over to the workbench so he could pour over the sketches and math for the hearing aid. It was smart, and given the proper attention it could truly work. But that could’ve been Rathaway’s own excitement rubbing off on Harry. 

At some point throughout the session, Harry nearly spilled coffee on the blueprints, Rathaway began to mumble to himself--probably Latin again--and Ramon disappeared to get lunch. Even with the three of them, they didn't get nearly as much done on the device as Harry would’ve liked. But between their combined efforts, and some of Harry’s suggestions, the project was farther along then it had been. That was enough to set Harry's mind at ease when he decided to leave the project to its original parents, and go retrieve his leftover barbeque meatloaf to eat in his office.

When he found the fridge devoid of his food and a letter addressed to him sitting on the shelf Harry felt his shoulders tense in anger and his stomach churn from something other than hunger. The note was typed and contained an ungodly amount of smiley faces and winking faces spaced out between the taunting words.

Crumpling up the paper in his fist, Harry threw the teasing note from the lunch thief in the trash and tried to think. If this was payback for him accidentally taking someone else’s food, Harry wasn’t going to take it. He had better things to do than chase down a lunch thief who specifically targeted his labeled meals. 

At least they had the decency to return the empty tupperware to the kitchen before the end of the day. 

* * *

The third time it happened, Harry went straight to HR to report the theft of his pastrami on rye. 

Was it an overreaction? Probably. According to Jesse, this was Harry’s karma for taking lunches that weren't his to begin with.

Did it satisfy a part of Harry knowing human resources would be aware of this lunch thief who left notes bragging about his kitchen espionage? It would if the imbecile who ran the department would actually do something instead of--

“Harry!” HR beamed, a smile already on his face as Harry entered his office. “It’s so good to see our handsome face in my office! How can I do you for today?”

“What?” Harry asked, momentarily thrown by HR's weird way of phrasing things. “No, nevermind. I have a complaint.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time!” HR said, all too chipper as he slowly pulled something up on his computer, all the while listening to Harry’s retelling of what was happening.

In all honesty Harry had no idea where HR came from or how to deal with him. Even with HR’s claims of being twins separated at birth, Harry had a difficult time believing the man who shared his face. That was until the DNA tests came back with positive results, then Harry--upon Jesse’s insistence--put HR in the STAR Labs human resources department and waited for him to fail. 

What Harry hadn’t counted on was for HR to thrive in that environment and for most of the usual issues the department dealt with to practically vanish overnight. It was strange, and Harry was still skeptical about HR’s ability to placate annoyed scientists, and he was more than annoyed by how his twin was so /happy/ all the time. Or how he could down espresso shots like they were water. That was intimidating even to Harry. 

But HR was likable and Harry wasn’t. HR knew how to deal with people where Harry would rather hide out in his lab and ignore anyone who came to talk to him about useless things. Harry had better things to do than listen to the frivolity of what color tablecloths to use for the museum banquet, or how to better include the new Palmer Tech scientists and interns by holding monthly dinners. 

HR loved planning those things. Harry would rather stay in his office working on paperwork for the joint STAR Labs and Palmer Tech alliance than talk to people about what potluck item to bring along.

“Well,” HR said as he tapped a few keys, his eyes fixed on the computer screen.

“What?” Harry snapped, more than ready to go back to his lab and finish working on the blueprints for his--

“It seems you're not the first person to file this complaint,” HR stated, pushing his chair back from his desk. Spinning around in his desk chair, HR continued, “There’s been a lot of reports like this. In fact, someone was in here a few weeks ago complaining about the same thing. Really nice fellow, fun name. He had an entire list of what was stolen on what days and--”

“Stolen?” Harry asked, feeling the heat of anger rise up in him. “He thinks I stole from him? So this is some kind of payback?”

Shrugging like he knew nothing, HR continued to spin in his chair and said, “This is pure speculation, but maybe if you read my Ten Step Pamphlet to Healthy Workplace Relations and wrote him an apology letter--”

“Absolutely not,” Harry snapped, standing up in a brisk motion. Clenching the new note from the lunch thief in his fist Harry said sharply, “I’m not going to be the one apologizing for thievery.”

“Even though you technically started it?” HR asked curiously.

“Especially!” Harry hissed, tempted to throw the different knickknacks on HR's desk across the room. “I want his name, and I want his position so I can make him regret crossing me.”

“If you say so,” HR said, turning back to his computer so he could slowly begin to pull up the file.

Very slowly. Painfully slowly. Using only his index fingers to hit the keys.

How the man only knew how to type with two fingers astounded Harry. Jesse knew how to type properly by the age of five. Probably earlier if Harry thought about it properly.

“Forget it,” Harry muttered after a solid minute of HR’s hunting and pecking. “I’ll figure it out myself.”

“Oh, okay!” HR said with a wide smile, probably relieved he didn’t have to keep typing. “Come back if you have any other problems!”

“You’re a problem,” Harry muttered under his breath, making sure to close the door to HR’s office a little harder than necessary.

* * *

The fourth time was when something in Harry snapped. 

It had been a long day before it even began. Harry had stayed overnight at the labs working on a series of equations he needed complete by the end of the week, which resulted in him having a headache all day. When he was checking in on the progress of one of the more promising developments, someone accidentally turned on one of the emergency showers which soaked Harry’s shoes when it began to pour water everywhere. And now, just like every other time he hadn’t expected it, Harry’s lunch was missing from the fridge. 

Maybe it was the series of unfortunate events that occurred throughout the day that lit the flame of rage in Harry. Or maybe it was just his own confrontational nature, but before he could fully comprehend what was happening Harry was writing out a harsh note on a piece of coffee stained paper. Finishing the letter by throwing the pen he used across the room--the clatter it made against the wall doing nothing to ease his frustration--Harry took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair before reading over the note. 

Even when he was angry Harry managed to make his penmanship look amazing. It was a striking contrast to see the angry heated words of accusation written in clear concise handwriting. It was beyond perfect, and Harry wasted no time in pinning it to the front of the fridge with one of the many colorful magnets that managed to find a home on the appliance.

Gripping the edge of the countertop, Harry wondered to himself why he hadn’t thought to put cameras in the kitchen before the random lunch snatching became this big of an issue. 

Quickly writing out a memo of what was taken and when to give to HR later, Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets and decided a big belly burger was in order. That always managed to make things better, even when he was having a really shitty day. 

Of course, by the time the delivery girl managed to find the STAR Labs entrance, and actually get Harry’s meal to him, it was bordering on lukewarm. The disappointment of his chocolate shake being strawberry only made Harry’s day even worse. 

So when Cisco Ramon decided to stop by Harry’s office before he had a chance to microwave his now cold burger, he wasn’t in the mood to chat. 

“Hey Harry,” Cisco said, seemingly unaware of what the look on Harry's face meant “So I need project approval from you before I can get started on something, mainly because Ray doesn’t want everyone from P-Tech going to him for approval all the time. Anyway--”

“Not now Ramon,” Harry snapped, pushing past Cisco as he made his way to the kitchen. “If you even mention whatever it is you’re working on, I’ll withhold approval. Now leave me alone.”

Usually a cold hard glare would give Harry the privacy he wanted, but with Ramon a bit more of an explanation was in order. That coupled with the obvious anger in his tone should’ve been enough to scare the engineer away for an hour or so. 

Well it should’ve.

“Somebody didn’t have their coffee,” Cisco commented as he followed Harry. Either the man was ignoring Harry’s wishes or he was blissfully ignorant of what _go away_ meant. 

“I had my coffee,” Harry said through gritted teeth, “I’ve also had it up to here with the stupid mistakes of incompetent people.”

“Wow,” Cisco commented, not looking the least bit impressed by Harry’s grumbling. “You’re really throwing a tantrum because things aren’t going your way.”

Sighing as he realized Ramon wasn't going to leave anytime soon, Harry deposited his takeout on the kitchen counter and vegan to short through it. Aside from the milkshake everything else about his order was correct. Extra cheese, a side of onion rings, and enough ketchup packets to drown someone in. 

“So,” Cisco said as he hopped up on the counter, something that was totally unsanitary. “Bad day? Wanna talk about it?”

“No,” Harry said firmly, depositing his burger in the microwave to heat up.

“Fair enough,” Cisco said as he chewed on a red vine. Harry had no idea how Ramon was able to produce candy out of thin air, but he wasn’t going to ask. “Hartley always whines when something doesn't go his way, so I’m kinda used to listening to people’s bad days.”

Dropping his burger on a plate, Harry paused and listened as Cisco kept talking. Whatever it was Ramon was saying was pointless and was worth ignoring, but his voice was nice and made Harry’s pounding headache subside ever so slightly.

“Ramon,” Harry interrupted when his headache started to throb again. Shoving the wrong flavor of milkshake at the engineer, Harry ordered, “Shut up.”

Blinking at the offer, a wide grin broke out across Cisco’s face as he accepted the treat, obviously grateful for anything to pacify his sweet tooth.

“Dude you’re so weird,” Cisco said between sips of the treat. “There’re better ways to shut me up. You ever tried Oreo milkshakes?”

“Really?” Harry asked, a few fries in his mouth. “So I can have that back?”

“No way,” Cisco said, holding the cup protectively to his chest. “This baby’s all mine. You can’t have it back. We’re very happy together.”

Letting out a small breath of amusement, Harry nodded and returned to his food, ever thankful for the miracles of fast-food joints and whatever crack they put into their fryers.

After a few minutes Harry decided that with some food in him and a fresh pot of coffee ready for when he was finished, he finally felt ready to hold a conversation that wasn't just grunts and growls. Cisco had stayed the whole time, occasionally mentioning Oreo milkshakes again, or commenting on how tired Harry looked. He deserved some kind of conversation to make up for Harry's shitty attitude.

“So your idea,” Harry said as he held up his last onion ring “What is it?”

Raising an eyebrow, Cisco asked “Is this some kind of trick to get me to talk about it so you can tell me no? Cuz I’m really good at that game and--”

“Ramon,” Harry said, fixing the younger man with a look. “Tell me about it.”

Nodding vaguely Cisco began to share his thoughts about assistive aids for paraplegics, amputees, and wheelchair users, but mainly how he could build a wheelchair with a higher range of function with additional features.

“I retrofitted one for my abuela when she fractured her hip,” Cisco said, his attention flitting between Harry and the milkshake in his hands. “And Ray said he’d help find a way to make them cost efficient, which probably means he’d buy them and donate them, but it would work out one way or another.”

Just like with all the other potential projects the Palmer Tech scientists brought up, it made sense. What Ramon was proposing was smart, sensible, and meant to help people. There was absolutely no reason to say no. 

But there wasn’t exactly a reason to say yes just yet either. If there was one thing Harry refused to do, it was that he was unwilling to let go of possible opportunities to see someone he admired. Intellectually. Intellectually admired.

“I want you to write up everything,” Harry said while he threw his trash away, “How much of this do you have planned out already?”

“Just the initial draft and--”

“Two weeks,” Harry said as he turned to leave, “Bring everything to my desk in two weeks.”

Harry pretended not to hear a whoop of excitement from the kitchen as he made his way back to his lab. Okay it might be a crush.

It felt like the rest of Harry’s day went by without incident. Paperwork that normally would’ve taken forever went by in a flash, three teams reported success in their latest experiments, and when Harry went back to the kitchen at the end of the day his Tupperware was waiting for him. 

With a note. 

Snatching the paper up to read it, Harry narrowed his eyes at the simple words typed in neat font.

**_Bring it_ **

Oh Harry would bring it alright. By the time he was done, no one in STAR Labs would worry about their food going missing.

* * *

The fifth time was when Harry drew the line.

It had been nearly two weeks without incident from the thief. Two blissful weeks of going to find his lunch exactly where it was supposed to be, not having to scavenge for snacks when he got hungry, not needing to worry about the childishness of someone actively stealing another adult’s meal in a workplace environment. To say Harry had begun to let his guard down would be wrong, especially since the notes from the thief continued to pop up whenever Harry least expected it. 

He found the first one on top of his food in the fridge, wishing him a good day and hoping nothing nefarious happened to his pasta. There were more of course, some resting above his lunch, while others detailed how the meals the thief took tasted, and even offered critique on how to improve them. It was like reading reviews on a recipe Harry came up with, but never shared with anyone.

Along with the second note he received from the thief--the first one thrown in the trash--Harry began to collect the small typed out messages from whoever had been stealing his food. All that along with some persuasion, there was no doubt in Harry’s mind that HR would give him the name of the culprit. 

However as nice as that sounded, seeing his sandwich missing from the fridge flipped something in Harry and he was off again, fueled by anger and frustration towards the situation. Screw karma, screw apologizing, and screw going to HR of all people to get it resolved. Harry was more than capable of communicating with the thief, and nothing was going to stop him from getting back what he wanted.

This time Harry calmed down to think before writing his note. This one wasn’t filled with mad rage, but it was written nicely and almost came off as polite. Harry was actually quite pleased with himself when he pinned it on the front of the fridge before leaving to finish some notes he was working on. 

When he returned he hadn't expected such an aggravating response. 

_To the person who has stolen my sandwich (ham and cheddar on whole-wheat) We are grown adults working together to advance society, not to steal each other’s lunches in some juvenile act of rebellion. Please take responsibility for your actions and stop stealing my property. Sincerely - Harrison Wells_

**_Dearest Harrison. I have your sandwich. Reimburse me 10 dollars for the food you stole from me first and I'll happily return your precious nutrients. Failure to comply with my demands will be met with me eating your food for the rest of the week._ **

**_PS: Bring more of that meatloaf, it was hella good ;) Yours truly - Lunch Avenger_ **

Staring at the paper, Harry wondered if it was possible to hate someone with all he had without even knowing the person. Sure it would be some enough to pay the ten bucks, it certainly wouldn’t hurt his wallet. But this was Harry’s pride on the line. By now everyone who traipsed into the kitchen had seen the two notes, and no doubt there were words being circulated around the labs as to what would happen next.

Thus began one of the most frustrating, excruciating, and disorganized arguments in Harrison’s life. 

_Grow up and give me my sandwich back. I have no problem contacting HR over this matter and will gladly drag your name through the mud once I obtain it. You’re not getting anything from me except a possible pink slip. Sincerely - Harrison Wells_

**_*image of sandwich on a plate.*_ **

**_You wanna play this the hard way Harrison. Fine by me. For every hour you refuse my demands, I’ll have a bite of this sandwich. Do take this seriously. We are professionals after all._ **

**_PS: I take really big bites. Better hurry with that Hamilton. Or two Lincoln’s. I’m not picky about the bills - Lunch Master_ **

If Harry didn’t have to keep running back and forth between his office and the kitchen to print and pin up all his correspondences with the thief, he might’ve actually found it funny. 

But it wasn’t. And the fact that Harry still had work to do made it impossible for him to simply sit around and see who was leaving the notes. 

_Why the hell are you doing this?_

_***image of a sandwich one quarter of it is missing*** _

_**Ask the many meals you stole from me why I’m doing this. Vengeance comes at a high price Harrison, and time’s a ticking - Savior of the Sandwich** _

It was the sign off that finally convinced Harry to call HR and demand he say or do something to put a stop to it all.

“Like what?” HR asked, the sounds of his drumsticks against his desk grating on Harry’s ears. “I wasn’t trained for this situation.”

“Tell him to stop!” Harry hissed into the receiver before slamming it down.

If there was any chance, any chance at all that HR was truly competent, he’d think up a way to settle this entire ordeal. Unfortunately all he did was make Harry want to scream.

_Hi lunch avenger! This is HR from HR. I’m requesting you give Harry back his sandwich please and thank you! We won’t bother investigating further in exchange for your cooperation. :D :D_

**_Buy me a pizza_ **

_As much as I’d like to, no. Sorry. Can’t do that :( - HR of HR_

His twin was an idiot. Taking a deep breath and making the walk back to his office, Harry decided he was going to roast HR on skewers if he kept playing into the hands of the perpetrator.

Then Cisco rounded the corner with a wide grin, a clipboard, and a pencil behind his ear and Harry’s thoughts of murdering his brother vanished. He felt like an idiot the way Cisco existed around him, but if Harry was being totally honest it was like the man came with an automatic soft focus around him. It was almost impossible to pay attention to the sandwich ordeal with the way Cisco struck up a conversation with Harry like nothing was the matter.

Almost. 

“How’s your pen pal?” Cisco asked as he nodded to the kitchen. “Everyone’s been keeping tabs on it.”

Uncrossing his arms only to put them back a moment later, Harry stated, “I’m tempted to fire whoever’s responsible. This is getting out of hand.”

“A little,” Cisco admitted, his brown eyes darting between Harry and the clipboard he held, “But he did say you stole from him. It’s kinda funny.”

“I didn’t steal anything,” Harry sighed, tired of explaining himself. “Whatever I took was in the fridge and it wasn’t labeled. No label might as well mean help yourself, so I did. Big deal.”

“It is to this guy,” Cisco smirked, the action causing heat to travel up Harry's neck. “Why all the back and forth of it wasn’t so important?”

Making a sound in the back of his throat that meant he sort of saw the point, Harry offered Cisco a nod before ducking back into his office to finish a few things. 

When Harry returned to the kitchen to check on the letters, he wasn’t even surprised by the reply that had been left for him. But it still irritated him.

_**I’m not one to waste food, but I’m seriously tempted to just chew the rest of this up and spit it into the trash. The payment price is now 20 dollars if you want what’s left of your sandwich dear Harrison. I hope you decide soon - Kitchen King** _

_You’re an unprofessional, immature, asshole who refuses to see logic. No deal - Harrison Wells_

_**Ooohh name calling? Very professional Harry, although I do admit to being all of those things. I also consider myself a brilliant mastermind as I have finished your sandwich and given it the opportunity to be consumed by the darkness of my eternal hunger.** _

_**My hunger for justice will never be satisfied, and as I turn to the fridge in search of your food to quench this burning desire in my bones, you will feel the pain and loss I too suffered when you wronged me - Food Savior** _

What. The. Hell.

Taking a deep breath as he resigned himself to the fact that the thief had somehow gotten away with it yet again, Harry slumped back in his desk chair and stared at his empty cup of coffee.

It had been a long and painful walk back to his office after reading that. Harry wasn't even disappointed, hell he wasn't even mad anymore. He was just tired of the insane form of communication, how he could never be sure if his food would be there, and now the hero complex the thief developed to avenge his own stolen food. 

It was times like this Harry wished he kept bourbon in his office.

Sighing at the thought of Jesse hearing about this from HR and holding it over his head for years to come, Harry almost ignored his desk phone ringing. The day had been exhausting enough, but one phone call wouldn’t kill him. 

Before Harry could get a word in edgewise, HR was off and talking, most of what he said blurring together except for one specific thing. 

“I GOT HIM!” HR repeated, sounding more than excited from the other end of the phone. “I mean, I thought I knew who he was the other week, but to be sure I had to log into the thing and that takes so much /work/, but that comment about the pizza--”

“Wait,” Harry said, punching the bridge of his nose to think. “You could’ve looked this up, almost a month ago?”

“I could’ve looked it up the first time you came by if you'd waited,” HR said in a chipper tone, unaware that his doom was being planned. “But I put the new note on the fridge a little when ago and thought you should know! I think this is a thrilling conclusion!”

“Gotta go,” Harry muttered, hanging up before HR could go on about some other nonsense. 

The kitchen was empty by the time Harry got there, and without hesitating he made a beeline for the fridge, intent on seeing who HR named as the culprit.

_Hi! HR from HR again! I checked the office’s printer queue and traced the requests back to your work computer Cisco. You should probably hop on by to talk sooner rather than later_

**_I’m sorry please don’t fire me._ **

Cisco was the lunch thief. Rubbing his eyes before rereading the final letters, Harry took a deep breath and took down all the papers, gathering them together in order before tucking them under his arm. 

If Harry were better at describing his emotions and wasn’t so tired, he'd probably write a full length essay on his feelings towards Cisco and his alter ego antics as the lunch thief, but right now that wasn’t going to happen. Instead he made his way to Cisco’s workroom to find the engineer fiddling nervously with the parts to some kind of generator.

“You know it was way more fun before HR caught me" Cisco said, his eyes never leaving the piece in his hands. “I really didn’t think he’d be able to figure out the printer system.”

Dropping the papers in front of Cisco, Harry stated, “Well played Ramon.”

Cisco's gaze flitted between Harry and the papers in front of him. Hesitantly Cisco asked, “Is this where you fire me? Because--”

“Lunch,” Harry said, grabbing what had to be Hartley's chair so he could sit down. “You’re not fired, just...do you want to join me for lunch tomorrow?”

Blinking in surprise, Cisco nodded before asking, “Is this a friend lunch or a coworker lunch or a--”

“Whatever you want it to be,” Harry said, realizing that he hadn’t planned this far. Heck, he didn’t even think he’d manage to ask Cisco out without saying something insulting.

“Okay,” Cisco said as he sat up in his seat. “So...like a repayment on all the lunches you stole from me.”

Eyes widening at how he was continuing the argument, Harry snapped, “I didn’t do anything.”

If it wasn’t one of the best things Harry laid eyes on, Cisco’s wide smirk would’ve pissed him off to the point of no return. Cisco seemed to recognize this as he said teasingly, “To be fair, you were the one who started all this.”

“No I didn’t,” Harry said firmly. Tapping the page that explained his reasoning Harry stated, “It wasn’t labeled. It was fair game.”

“Yeah right,” Cisco snorted, crossing his arms over his graphic t-shirt. “So during the whole time we were visiting from Palmer Tech, out of all of us who had our unlabeled stuff in that fridge, you were only interested in my food? Unlikely. You totally shop around in other people’s stuff when they don’t put their name on it, don’t you?”

“I do not,” Harry said quickly, a little too quickly judging by Cisco’s widening grin.

“You totally do,” Cisco crowed, his fear at being terminated gone from his mind. “I got you!”

“I got you first,” Harry said, but his words went ignored by Cisco as he sat down and began teasing Harry.

* * *

“I told you they were good,” Cisco said as he sat down across from Harry. Shoving the basket of fries between them Cisco continued, “But no, you had to whine and complain the whole time, but once you actually tried it--”

“Okay,” Harry relented, grabbing his burger and checking it for the right toppings. “Oreo milkshakes are amazing and you were right.”

“Hell yeah I was,” Cisco said assuredly. Grabbing one of Harry’s onion rings Cisco examined it before asking, “How many times do these babies see the fryer before getting boxed up?”

“Too many,” Harry said, having dug into his food. “But that’s what makes them the best.”

“Can’t argue with that logic,” Cisco shrugged, turning his attention to his own big belly burger. 

Lunch dates were always shorter than their usual outings, but they were some of Harry’s favorite moments with Cisco. Once or twice a week Harry would treat Cisco to lunch wherever he wanted within walking distance of the lab, and in return Cisco promised not to steal Harry’s food from the STAR Labs fridges. It didn’t always work out to Harry’s advantage, with some of his food obviously missing by the time he went to retrieve it, but that was fine. The notes Cisco left made up for it. 

“You’ve got your thinking face on,” Cisco said, drawing Harry back to the topic at hand. “What’s going on in your head?”

Dunking an onion ring in ketchup, Harry shook his head and stated, “Nothing to concern yourself with Ramon.”

“Okay lay off on the Ramon business,” Cisco said, grabbing his milkshake and stirring it around. “I’m your boyfriend right now, not your employee.”

“Technically your Palmer’s employee,” Harry smirked, “And you’re always my boyfriend, in the lab or not.”

Leaning his head back Cisco groaned, “You can’t just say stuff like that Harry. It’s sappy.”

“I thought you liked sappy,” Harry commented, paying attention to the look Cisco addressed him with.

“Yeah, I do,” Cisco said before swatting Harry’s hand away, “But it sounds wrong coming from you, and it's not sappy when you’re trying to take my stuff. Hands to yourself.”

“That’s not what you said when--” Harry began only to be cut off by a startled shout from Cisco for him to shut up.

Letting a smirk crawl across his face at how Cisco was quickly trying to change the subject, Harry sipped at his milkshake and dipped some fries from Cisco’s portion in it. If he was buying then it didn’t technically count as stealing, right?

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> And that's that! I hope you guys enjoyed this and if you're interested in more, please check me out as sleepyssnail on both my [tumblr](https://sleepyssnail.tumblr.com/) and my [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/sleepyssnail/) if you want to send me some prompts for writing or edits!


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